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“Indeed,” Will said, but there was no time to investigate this interesting development further, for Mrs Iverson returned and swept him away to another partner. But as he danced, he saw Somerwell station himself at the side of the room, where he had the best view of Rosie as she danced. And there he stayed for the rest of the evening.
9: After The Party
‘To Miss Jupp, St Peter’s Road, Sagborough, West Riding. Three o’clock.In the morning.My dearest Belinda, I have danced! It was only supposed to be informal, but we stayed till after two, and I have so much energy I cannot possibly sleep. Angie has dropped off at last but I swear her feet are still moving, as she dances light-footed through her dreams. Let me tell you all, for it was very sudden. One of our neighbours, Mrs Iverson, called yesterday to invite us to her small party, as she called it, and we had precisely five hours’ notice. She lives across the square, and the house is a little different to ours, but she has no ballroom, either, just a room with the carpets rolled up, and for all it was supposed to be informal there were six musicians there, and the dancing began at once. Neither Angie nor I sat down all night, and Will did his duty by the wallflowers, too. Usually he gets bored after a while when all the pretty women are taken, but tonight he danced with some who were not pretty at all, which surprised me. But you have no wish to hear about Will’s partners, I am sure. Let me tell you of mine. First I danced with a Mr Somerwell, who is a very agreeable man, tall and broad-shouldered, although not so much as Ricky, I think. He has dark hair arranged in that way that looks windswept but is actually carefully contrived. He was easy to talk to, for he talked mostly about himself and required no answers from me, beyond the usual politeness. Some men simply render me speechless, and I am sure they think I am quite stupid, but I was perfectly comfortable with Mr S. He spoke clearly, too, so I could hear him even above the music. After him, I danced with Mr Iverson, a son of the house, who was more tongue-tied even than I was! And he has sandy hair, which I donotlike. After that a Mr Jameson, who is in Holy Orders although without a living. He talked about his uncle the general all the time. So boring. Then Mr Williams or Williamson, I forget, and then a man with eyes like a frog. Then finally Mr Tranter who was Irish and very amusing. He had me in whoops, so we almost missed our cue for joining the dance and Mr Jameson glared at me and told me to pay attention. But Mr Tranter took all the blame upon himself and made him a handsome apology, and said we could not all be such accomplished dancers as Mr Jameson, and he must make allowances for those less expert than himself. Which is a great joke, for Mr Jameson has two left feet. He certainly trod on my toes at least twice. I am yawning fit to burst, so I must go to bed, Belinda dear, but my dreams will be full of music and movement and swirling skirts and handsome young men. I shall write more when I have descended to earth. Your enraptured friend, Rosie.’
~~~~~
The following morning saw a steady stream of callers at Grosvenor Square, the gentlemen leaving posies of flowers for the girls, and the ladies leaving cards. Several mamas and sisters and aunts had been pressed into service to make the acquaintance of Mrs Fletcher and her daughters, so they might bring hopeful sons and brothers and nephews with them when they next called.
That afternoon, despite lowering skies, the barouche was brought out to take the ladies for a drive in Hyde Park. Stepmother debated the difficult question of what to do with Will.
“I am not minded to ride today, and there is a seat for me in the carriage,” he pointed out.
“Yes, dear, but you look so well on horseback and it adds greatly to our consequence to be accompanied by a rider.”
Will could not quite see that, but he obligingly rode alongside the carriage while the ladies sat in state within it, parasols aloft despite the clouds.
It seemed that a few hints might have been dropped the evening before regarding their plans, for no sooner had their small group entered the park than they were besieged by numerous riders, their faces familiar from the Iversons’ party. The barouche was surrounded and their progress halted for some time as the ladies greeted their new acquaintances. Eventually the press of vehicles behind them forced Will to step in, moving riders aside so the carriage could proceed. Even so, progress was slow, and the escort riding alongside steadily increased in number until Will counted over twenty, all jostling for a favourable position alongside Rosie. This attracted a gratifying amount of attention from the occupants of other carriages. Dowagers raised lorgnettes and dandies stared through quizzing glasses, and Will tried very hard not to laugh. A rotund elderly gentleman turned his carriage about, with great difficulty for his coachman, in order to follow the barouche and try to draw alongside.
Somerwell was one of the admiring crowd, but he made no attempt to get near to Rosie, instead turning his attention on Will. “How charming Miss Fletcher looks today. Her perfections must attract admiration wherever she goes.”
“And yet strangely her perfections attracted no admiration last week.”
Somerwell turned amused eyes on him. “You are quite wrong about that, for I admired them myself. The only difference today is that all these avid gentlemen were informed that the lady would be taking a turn about the park. Mrs Fletcher may have happened to mention it to Mrs Iverson, and she may have happened to mention it to her particular friend and… well, when ladies get their heads together, these little droplets of information fall freely.”
“My stepmother is very keen for Rosie to become acquainted with respectable gentlemen and make a good match. She hopes for a title, but we shall see.”
“Yes, her dowry alone would certainly justify such hopes,” Somerwell said. “Combined with her beauty and her demure manner — she is a peach, is she not, Fletcher? Come now, even as her brother, you must admit to it.”
“You know the amount of her dowry, do you?” Will said suspiciously, before remembering he had himself authorised Tibbs to make it known.
Somerwell laughed outright. “Good Lord, Fletcher, every lady’s dowry is known to the last penny. If the servants know it, everyone knows it. Fifty thousand — am I correct?”
Will acknowledged it. “Do you truly think she could aim for a title?”
“Certainly. Half the peerage would jump at the chance to snap up an accredited beauty with that sort of money in her hand. Not that theywillget the chance, of course.”
“No?”
“No. For I intend to steal her away from under their noses.” He grinned, and Will could not help laughing at his confidence. “Ah, you look disbelieving, but I shall succeed, you know. I can picture her now, angel that she is, in the Gold Saloon at Brampton Hall, reclining on a chaise longue, in a white gown with a long train. How exquisite she would look! Or crossing the entrance hall in that bonnet she wore the first time I saw her — the one with the blue ribbons tied in the shape of a flower. Blue is the ideal colour, for it would enhance the blue tint to the marble columns. I have made it my life’s work to make my house the most beautiful in England, and it only needs your sister to achieve perfection. I should like to know a little more about her. Where may I find you, Fletcher? Which is your club?”
“I have no club, sir, not in town, anyway.”
“Now, that will never do! Come to mine, then, and let me introduce you to a few fellows. White’s. Would two o’clock tomorrow suit you?”
Gratitude and hope leapt in Will’s chest. White’s! He could walk up those famous steps and through the doors and… he would not be a member, not yet, but it was a step on the road. One day he would be able take his rightful place in society, and today he had inched a little closer to that destiny.
~~~~~
“What did you think of the Fletcher sisters?” Connie said, as they worked on her correspondence the morning after the Iversons’ party. “They danced extraordinarily well, I thought. Reggie thought so, too, and he does not lightly give out such praise.”
“They were better dressed last night, I thought,” Eloise said.
“Too many spangles,” Connie said with a shudder. “But the colours suited them better, I will grant you that. Should we invite them to our first ball, that is the question.”
Eloise set down her pen and turned to face her cousin. “Why this interest in the Fletchers? I should have set them down as just another provincial family with money looking to buy their way into the upper levels of society. The elder girl is certainly a beauty, and the sister has her attractions too, but if last night is any indication, their success is assured. The beauty will marry the younger son of a modest title, and the other will marry a squire, they will retire to the shires and never be seen again. I cannot quite see why you would single them out for any distinguishing notice.”
“They are from Sagborough,” Connie said, heaving a long sigh. “It is the nearest town to Drummoor —ourtown, if you like. We go there to shop, we have spring and autumn balls for the tenant farmers, Gil and Genistalivethere. And yet I knew nothing of the Fletchers, apart from the name of the warehouse. I am not sure that I ever went inside it, for we always bought our gown lengths at Haddington’s, if we bought locally. They did not care to put themselves forward and I never made the effort to seek out such people. We should have mingled more in Sagborough society, I feel.”
